


Some Paths Can't Be Found Alone

by Carter_Ash_Official



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Kadara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 06:52:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20738027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carter_Ash_Official/pseuds/Carter_Ash_Official
Summary: Sydney is not impressed with her Resistance contact. She's more irritated and outraged. And said contact seems to be enjoying her irritation.





	Some Paths Can't Be Found Alone

Kadara had a nice crisp breeze to spread the stench of sulfur around. Other than that, it seemed almost nice. Gorgeous view from the port, mountains and valleys to cast sharp shadows. Supposedly small Kett presence, so that was a big plus.

And no Director Tann to be judging her every move on the Nexus. Arguably a bigger plus than minimal Kett.

Sydney took a deep breath of the sulfuric stench.

_ Not as bad as Scott’s football pads. _

“Good outfit.” Vetra praise came from the Tempest’s ramp.

Sydney shrugged. Leather jacket, one of her scarves. Sneakers that had been considered out of style when they left the Milky Way, so who knew how outdated they were now. “Figured it was good not to have on Initiative stuff like a walking poster.”

Vetra bobbed her head in approval.

Drack was behind her and positively beaming at the port. “Not too shabby for folk who got kicked off the station with nothing to show for it.”

Sydney agreed. The port was a little grimy and there were oil splotches on the fueling platform, but it was a fully functioning port that was self-sufficient. It was more than what the nexus had been when the Hyperion had arrived. “Maybe we can get them back on our side.”

“We know they can fight Kett.” Vetra leaned to look over the railing and into the clouds below. “C’mon, Drack. They won’t wait forever.”

The krogan’s grin widened. 

Sydney watched them head for the lift to somewhere else. “Do I even want to know?”

“Nope.”

_ Great. _

Sydney turned back to the port and adjusted her scarf. It wasn’t one of Mom’s. Mom’s scarfs were carefully folded and in storage for when there wasn’t a potential chance to get stabbed by some bitter exile. Or worse. And it wasn’t the crummy striped thing she’d taken to wrapping around her armor.

But it was a scarf and it constituted as a fashion accessory that was both stylish and useful.

_ Okay, SAM. Let’s go find this ‘Shena.’ _

* * *

Reyes always did his research.

_ Pathfinder. _

He knew what was officially released by the Initiative, he knew what the Resistance had told him, and he knew what propaganda the Outcasts were pushing out.

The Nexus had the most information. There was Alec Ryder’s official biographic information that mentioned his children and each gave a short interview on what traits from their father would make him a good Pathfinder. Then Alec’s eulogy, where it was mentioned that his daughter Sydney had been named Pathfinder in his place. There wasn't a biography on Sydney Ryder yet, at least an official one from the Initiative. But there were holovids of her being interviewed.

Reyes liked that she didn’t hide the Initiative’s problems. But she still seemed hopeful. Director Tann would hate her admitting the rocky start.

She had reddish hair, olive skin, average height. Freckles and some other birthmarks, according to the vids.

The Resistance’s description had been ‘looks like a human’. That was their default description for any human. There was also a little note that she had an AI.

The Resistance also said that she’d refused the Moshae’s orders. Details were withheld over what the orders were, but this Pathfinder hadn’t followed them.

_ Courage. Or foolhardy? _

The Outcasts, and through extension, Sloane, were calling the Pathfinder a liar and that she’d gotten her position from nepotism, alongwith the usual claims that came with being associated with the Initiative.

He did admit that he was curious, only slightly, about that. The Initiative’s first press release about Alec Ryder’s team named some other woman as the Pathfinder Ryder’s second-in-command. Not his daughter.

Something to figure out at a later date or to just remain unknown.

Reyes looked up as the door to Kralla’s opened, letting in a beam of afternoon sunlight. He didn’t recognize the figure, but he knew the Pathfinder wasn’t Angara. He went back to checking his email while waiting.

* * *

Sydney had been in clubs before. Okay,_ a _ club. With her coworkers on the dig site. The same coworkers who had polar opposite definitions of what fun was. One thought fun meant getting blind drunk at the bar and then trying to do the YMCA to a song that was definitely not the YMCA, and the other had taken it upon themselves to flirt their way through every Asari dancer in the club in the hopes of getting laid.

So Sydney’s experience with clubs was lacking.

Kralla’s Song was a bar.

Sydney had been in bars before. Bars were very different than clubs. Bars had food and usually drunk coworkers weren’t dancing on tables.

Bars were great.

She weaved through the upstairs tables to the bar on the lower level. The music was loud enough to hear the melody and hold a conversation. Bright lights were lazily spinning on the ceiling to the beat. The floor was sticky. Outcasts with their blue-painted armor weren’t trying to shank Collective members.

_ Neutral area. Good. Let’s hope they’re neutral to the Initiative. _

Some folks glanced her way but no one stared outright.

Sydney nodded to the Asari bartender and leaned against the bar, shaking her head for no drinks. 

She fixed her scarf again. Fiddled with the clasps on her jacket sleeve. Her thumb had a hangnail and it took all her self control to not just rip the thing off.

And she waited.

And waited.

And waited long enough that she thought that this was Evfra’s idea of a joke.

Sydney checked the time and realized that it’d been only six minutes.

_ Dangnabbit. SAM, do you- _

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

Sydney left her thought unfinished and eyed the speaker. Spanish accent, probably from Earth. In fact, his accent was probably the most noticeable thing about him. Black hair, hazel eyes, skin somewhere in-between. Sure, his hair looked perfect, but Sydney knew that perfect hair was never natural, despite how much it might look it. Perfect-looking hair took time and effort and a whole drawer-full of products.

_ Thanks Scott, for your hair obsession in high school. Really helpful for picking out the wrong kind of guys in bars. _

The guy motioned to the bartender for two beers, and offered one to Sydney with a pleasant expression.

“Not interested.” Sydney turned away, enough so that he remained at the edge of her peripheral vision.

He downed both beers. “Shena.”

_ Of course. _

He offered her his hand. “But you can call me Reyes. I hate codenames.”

Sydney accepted the handshake. “I was expecting someone more… Angaran.”

“The Resistance pays me to supply information.” He motioned to a quiet spot near the open windows. “Among other things.”

_ Probably not legal, like Vetra. _

“So you’re a smuggler?” She leaned on the wall, giving him her full attention. 

Reyes didn’t respond to that comment, instead half-smiling and looking out at the scenery. “Your man, Vehn Terev, was arrested by Sloane Kelly, leader of the Outcasts. Word spread about what he did to the Moshae Sjefa.” He shrugged. “The people are calling for his execution. And Sloane… she’s a woman of the people.”

_ Shit. Shit shit shitty shitting shit. I’ll just yeet him out of wherever he is, hack security or something with SAM… Dang exiles. _

Sydney clasped her hands together. “Dress it up however you want. She’s a criminal. I can offer supplies from the Nexus for him.”

Reyes was smiling faintly. “You work for the Initiative. Sloane was part of the uprising on the Nexus. I doubt she’d give up Vehn easily. Even for trade goods.”

“I’m taking him. With or without permission.” Oh, that bluff was all bravado, and Sydney grimaced internally. It wasn’t like she could just storm wherever the Outcast headquarters were and take over. She couldn’t even demand a discount on fuel. She’d heard Gil try.

His smile grew. “We’re going to be friends, you and I.”

_ I don’t think so. _

Reyes turned away from the window. “There might be another way to get to Vehn. you work Sloane, I’ll talk to the Resistance.” And he headed for the exit.

“What, wait, that’s it?” Sydney gaped in his direction before calling after him. “How do I contact you if things go south?”

He looked at her over his shoulder and winked.

Winked.

_ That doesn’t help me. _

She started after him, intent on his contact information.

“HEY!”

Sydney sighed. It was the bartender. “Yeah?”

“You gotta pay.” The Asari pointed at the pair of beers Reyes had downed.

“But I didn’t drink either of them. He did.”

A knife appeared in the bartender’s hand. “You’re with him, he’s gone, so you pay.”

Sydney decided arguing would result in making a scene and the knife ending up somewhere highly unpleasant. “Fine. Keep the change.”

“Always do.” The bartender slipped the knife from view.

With a lighter wallet and irritation growing, Sydney headed towards the door. She’d lost sight of Reyes, but she could catch up with him outside. He owed her for the drinks, and she needed his contact information.

Kralla’s door whooshed open and she groaned. Some Outcast members were kicking a downed Turian and making a scene. They were yelling about protection payment as if they were the mob in an old-timey film. And Reyes had vanished.

_ Great. Now what? _

_ ‘I believe talking to Ms. Kelly would be the next step, Pathfinder.’ _

_ Thanks SAM. I knew that. _

Sydney pinched the bridge of her nose and decided that Kadara coud have the best views in Andromeda, but the inhabitants lest everything else to be desired.

* * *

The Krogan guard seemed like he was in a bad mood. Or his disposition was just sour. Sydney twisted slightly to get a better look at him, and received the butt of his assault rifle to the ribs.

The Turian leading her to Sloane was the captain of the Outcast’s guards.

_ And- _

_ That’s not… Yes it is. _

Sloane Kelly had changed a lot since the Nexus uprising. Physically, at least. She didn’t look like the picture in her file anymore.

She’d shaved most of her head, leaving a couple braids on top. Shrapnel scars decorated one side of her face. The biggest difference was that this Sloane Kelly had cruel eyes. The Nexus vid was of a woman with a stern bun and a quiet, hopeful smile. The woman in front of her looked like she’d forgotten what a smile was.

Sloane was on a call with someone, moving little things around on a holo. And she was sitting on a throne.

Well, throne was a generous exaggeration, but the heavy armchair was up on a dais and definitely was intended to look like a throne.

The rest of the room was pretty nondescript; windows with blinds, a couple tables and chairs, vending machine in the corner with the glass shot out so anyone could just take when they wanted.

“Focus defenses here and here,” Sloane ordered, lighting two spots in the holo. “The Kett have been quiet for too long-” She caught sight of Sydney. “I’ll call you back.”

Sydney waited until the Outcast leader had closed the holo. “You must be Sloane Kelly. I’m-”

“So what brings a Pathfinder to our humble port?”

_ Well, okay then. Right to the point. _

“Vehn Terev. Name ring any bells?”

“What’s he to you?” Sloane fired back. “And don’t lie to me.”

Sydney decided that she didn’t want to find out what would happen if she lied. “I need him so I can infiltrate a Kett flagship. You’ve obviously got no love for the Kett.” An idea struck her, and she latched onto it. “I’m doing you a favor.”

Sloane snorted. “Kadara is an Angaran port. They what Vehn dead, and I want to keep them happy.”

A sinking feeling developed in Sydney’s gut. “This is bigger than local politics.”

“You don’t need Vehn. You need his intel. I’ll let you talk to him after I put his head on a spike.”

Sydney crossed her arms, not backing down. “Vehn should be judged by the Resistance. Not you.”

The argument bait failed. “I don’t have time for a morality debate.” Sloane ficked her hand in her general direction. “Dismissed.”

_ Bitch. _

Sydney dropped into a deeply sarcastic curtsy. “Your highness.”

The Korgan grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back towards the door.

* * *

She was unceremoniously shoved out of the Outcast’s side door. Scrap vendors were set up under awnings with trestle tables. Someone was frying something past well done and straight to inedible, just based on the smell alone. Sydney didn’t want to know what it was.

And-

_ How did he know? _

Lurking next to a stack of cable was Reyes. He waved her over with a smug smile. “Have a nice chat?”

“Yeah, I think she really likes me. I’ve been invited back for a tea party,” Sydney spat sarcastically.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I found a workaround. Had a feeling Slaone wouldn’t like you.”

_ Geez, thanks. _

“Let me guess. It comes with strings attached.”

“Not any new ones.” Reyes shrugged and fished something out of a pouch on his belt. “Remember, Evfra wants Vehn alive, so when you get inside, give him this.”

Sydney took the tube doubtfully. “Toothpaste?”

“Acid. It will eat through whatever Sloane’s holding him in.”

“So extreme toothpaste.” She gingerly tucked it into her jacket pocket.

Reyes was smiling again. “It can’t be traced back to us. And a resistance agent will be waiting to pick Vehn up. There’s a maintenance shaft around the corner.” He toggled his omni-tool. “Sending the access code to you.”

“Send your contact info too.”

He shook his head, enjoying teasing her. “My contact information won’t get you inside. You should be able to handle the rest.”

Her wrist beeped with a received message. Sydney checked it and scowled. Just the code from a blocked sender. “There’s still the matter of the bill you left me with.”

Reyes plastered on a guilty look that wouldn’t have fooled a VI. “I’m usually the model gentleman.

“I don’t believe you.”

He paused, before that teasing look returning. “Because I am lying.”

_ You- _

_ I- _

Sydney fumbled for words through her outrage. She wasn’t fast enough.

Reyes nodded goodbye. “When you’re done, come to Tartarus. First rounds on me. Promise.”

_ You just said you were lying! _

_ No, nope, just let him go. Not worth it. _

She turned back to the Outcast base. 

_ SAM, let’s find this maintenance shaft. _

_ ‘It’s next to the door you were taken out of.’ _

Sydney headed over to the door.

_ Tell me that’s not it. _

_ ‘It is.’ _

_ That’s an air duct. _

_ ‘It is what Mr. Vidal was referencing. My scans indicate a crawlspace to the Outcast cells.’ _

_ Oh, how considerate, a crawlspace. _

Sydney looked around, but no one was watching her. She crouched down and quietly lifted the duct grate off its hinges and slipped inside. And promptly sneezed. She pulled her scarf up over her nose.

There was dust everywhere.

_ Well, it’s an adventure. Here goes nothing. _

* * *

He’d decided the private room would be better. Everyone in the Slums had one thing in common, and that was a deep hatred for the Initiative. The Pathfinder would be safer out of sight.

And he could work in peace to his choice of music.

_ No, don’t put anything in writing. _

Reyes sent the email reminding his client that paper trails were not good for business.

His beer had sweated a puddle onto the table. Soon he’d have to order another, and probably one for someone else. He did owe a certain woman a couple drinks after leaving her with the bill at Kralla’s. Tartarus had the best beer on Kadara, too.

The Pathfinder kept coming back to his thoughts. She out of her comfort zone on Kadara, and… what was the word…on edge. And she was uptight. It was very entertaining to tease her.

There was a knock on the door. A politeness never given in Tartarus.

_ Pathfinder. _

“Come in!”

“Got his information.” Ryder was in well-worn armor. Behind her was a krogan and a human guy, and she waved them off. “I’ve got this. Go get a couple drinks.”

Reyes flicked off his email out of habit, not that there was anything outright incriminating on it. “Got word from one of my colleagues. Vehn Terev made it off Kadara. He’a free man.” He toasted to her with his beer. “Thanks to you.”

Ryder sank down onto a chair opposite him and pulled a water bottle off her belt. “You helped. A little.”

He sipped his beer. “Always nice to be recognized.”

Outside the room came a crashing sound and a couple shots. Ryder’s hand was on her pistol, but she hadn’t moved.

Reyes had a derringer up his sleeve. The crashing wasn’t bad enough for him to get involved. Yet.

A yell about the Collective owing a debt to the Outcasts was interrupted by another voice bellowing for damn gang politics to be left outside. The music started back up.

Ryder pinched the bridge of her nose. “Things are looking less friendly between the Collective and the Outcasts.”

“Not everyone’s happy living under Sloane’s thumb. Whatever resources Kadara has goes to the Outcasts. The rest of us get scraps. The Collective claims to be different, but... it’s hard to trust a faceless leader.” Reyes shrugged. It was the facts. Either leftover resources or having faith in a faceless leader.

Well, faceless to most, but that was a secret.

Ryder nodded in agreement. “Especially with a name like the ‘Charlatan’.” She added air quotes.

“Have it admit it, I’m jealous. That’s a better nickname than ‘Shena’.” 

She looked at him with curiosity. “What’s it mean?”

“It’s the Angaran word for ‘mouth’. I’m good…” Reyes paused to clear his throat and change his word choice. “I’m good with words.”

Her open expression had soured with realization of what he’d almost said. “Among _ other _things?”

He sipped his beer, meeting her eyes. “Never had a complaint.”

Ryder broke eye contact and was trying to look like she hadn’t heard him as she packed up her water bottle. A pair of red spots were high on her cheeks. “I better get going,” she forced out rapidly.

_ You’re uncomfortable. _

Now he felt a little bad. “Ryder.”

She eyed him. “Yeah?”

It was something she needed to know. Kadara operated on its own laws. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…” How to put it diplomatically? “You’re not really liked here. In Kadara Port.”

Her expression dropped. “Ouch.”

“What I’m saying is… you need a friend. Someone on the inside to help you out. I can be that guy.” Reyes caught her look and shook his head. “You need intel on exiles, Sloane, whatever- come to me. I- I’m not trying to… ah, make a move, as they say.”

Ryder looked like she was thinking. “Thanks. I think. I should probably go get my team out of here.”

“Yes. Kralla’s would be a safe bar.”

“Thank you.”


End file.
